Thomas Barr

Thomas Barr focuses on a letter Jeremiah sent to Daniel and the exiles. In this letter, God instructs the Believer to live in a city he doesn’t belong to. Thomas also invites us to take a closer look at the infamous verse Jeremiah 29:11, giving us insight into what it meant for the exiles and what it can mean for us.

Thomas Barr continues our series on what it looks like to be a disciple by studying Matthew 11 and identifying the specific words Jesus used to invite us in—come, take, learn, and find.

Reflecting on the Palm Sundays of my youth, I remember walking out of church with a cross-shaped leaf in hand. I remember waving a branch bigger than me. I remember singing songs with a word (hosanna?) that I never once used in an English literature class. I remember a preacher mentioning a man, a donkey, and some redneck-ish red carpet made of old coats. I remember… being confused.  Why the religious luau? Why the palm branches? Why the donkey? Why coats on the ground instead of on shoulders? Why hosanna? Why Palm Sunday? Why is this moment so significant that all four Gospel writers include it? To see the significance, we must slowly survey the scene. We must meditate on the pictures of Palm Sunday.  — A King Palm Sunday has a special setting. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John each ensure their reader knows Jesus is en route to Jerusalem for Passover. In perfect timing, the person of power enters this place of power. New Testament scholar, N.T. Wright comments on a peculiar coincidence unfolding: “Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor… would come up to Jerusalem [at Passover] to prevent trouble. He would arrive, from the west, on a military horse with an armed escort.” As that empirical tyrant makes his way from the West, rumors of another ‘king’ coming in from the East emerge. The scene narrows in on Jesus.  The next day the large crowd that had come to the feast heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. John 12:12 Now when they drew near to Jerusalem and came to Bethphage, to the Mount of Olives, then Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village in front of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, ‘The Lord needs them,’ and he will send them at once.” Matthew 21:1–3 He gears up for his entry. Thus far, Jesus has kept a hard rule of hushing any public comments that he was some sort of “king,” but now his guard is down. Matthew, Mark, and Luke each make sure to mention his commanding arrangements for his entrance. In other words, he is not accidentally stumbling upon a parade entrance; he is planning one. The Uber has been called in advance. The campaign texts have been sent out to all. The King is coming on his own command. He leaves no middle ground. As Tim Keller once coined, “You either kill Him or crown Him.” Meditation: Jesus, you are more than a mere man, leader, teacher, or example. You are the King. Forgive me for the moments I’ve come to you for options to consider, not commands to obey.   — A Donkey “Get off your high horse!” The metaphor brings to mind the mighty. The high and proud have always been a combo deal with the big beasts. In antiquity, kings triumphed into town on their large horses, chariots, and camels, accompanied by large armies. The higher the king, the higher the horse, the louder the entrance.  This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet, saying, “Say to the daughter of Zion, ‘Behold, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.’ ”  Matthew 21:4-5 In stark contrast to the stallion, Jesus journeys into Jerusalem with irony. Palm Sunday is taking place to fulfill what God promised his people all along: a mighty King will come on a donkey. There is nothing impressive about a donkey. If the President of the United States rode one, we would await the memes. Leaders do not show up looking lowly. Kings show up in bling—with convoys of Cadillacs. The powerful would never show up on such a poor creature. Not this King. He is the great paradox. Powerful, yet peaceful. Divine, yet meek. His heart is made of tender mercy, not calloused pride. Palm Sunday is King Jesus’ announcement of his purpose and character to the world: He is the King, He has come, and he is humble.   Meditation: Jesus, you are the humble King. You are mighty and meek. Teach me how to walk in the trail you have blazed: godliness and humility. Take me off my high horse and hitch me onto yourself.  — A Palm Branch & A Plea Two centuries before Jesus’ Palm Sunday, there was another Palm Sunday. A man named Simon was famous for driving opposing forces out of Jerusalem. Simon was welcomed into the city with songs, chants, and… yes, palm branches. Decades after Jesus’ death, palm branches were engraved on Jewish currency as an emblem of rebellion against Rome. It is safe to say the palm branch was a symbol of national hope.  Most of the crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. And the crowds that went before him and that followed him were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” Matthew 21:8-9 As Jesus marches in, the crowds wave palm branches and lay cloak-carpets. A single hope is on their mind: freedom from political oppression. “Hosanna!” they plead, full of emotion. The term literally means “Save us, now!” Do they realize what they are requesting? In their eyes, Jesus is the candidate who can bring that freedom right now. He is the one who can take down Rome. He is the national hope. In his eyes, the crowds’ dreams are too dainty. Their hope—too near-sighted. Their aspirations—too narrow. Jesus will not be just another elected official who patches oppression up with a bandaid. His objective is far greater than releasing the grip of Rome. He has come to conquer what no party, politician, or policy could ever touch: death.  Meditation: Jesus, you are the humble King and Savior of the world. I await your return and repeat with the crowd: Hosanna — save us! Bring to mind not just the palm branches waving on this day but the trees themselves clapping on the day you return in glory.  — A Rejection Haters always find a way to crash a party. While Jesus marches into Jerusalem on a donkey to the sounds of the chanting crowds, an opposing party rises to the surface. Anger boils up in the blood of the Pharisees: So the Pharisees said to one another, “You see that you are gaining nothing. Look, the world has gone after him.”John 12:19 And some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples.” He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.”  Luke 19:39 The Pharisees see the whole scene as pointless and futile. The people gain nothing from praising a man on a donkey. Though the world follows him, the Pharisees will not make that stupid fault. They will not join the crowd’s chants that Jesus is King. “Jesus, do you not think this is getting out of hand? Your disciples need a chill pill.” It is as if Jesus replied, “If humanity had no mouths, you would still hear stones singing that I am King.” Creation bows to this King. The Pharisees do not. They miss it all. God passed them on a donkey, and they were busy scrolling through their own self-centeredness. Did he catch your eye? Do you see the picture of Palm Sunday? Behold! The King who rides in humility. The King who restores stoney hearts. The King who substitutes himself for sinners. The King who bleeds on behalf of the guilty. The King that turns the worst day of humanity into a “Good” Friday. The King that robs the grave. The King that defeats death. Behold! The King who enters from the East. Meditation: Jesus, thank you for the picture of Palm Sunday. Your triumphal entry led you to a cross to take away my sin. Before I could chant or clean up, you died for me. Like the rocks, I will cry out for all to hear: amazing grace!

If we are single, we need to be married. If we are married, we need to have kids. If we have financial stability, we need financial flexibility. If we are leading people, we need more responsibility. If we have a master’s degree, we need a PhD. If we have a gift, we need influence. You get the gist.   The underlying message is clear: we always need more, and this constant craving for what’s next takes a toll on our present life. The more fixated we are with the future, the more bitter we become with the present, eroding gratitude and faithfulness. Our problem? Fixation on a changing future. Consider Luke 15. Jesus describes two brothers torn between their future dreams and their father. The younger son blatantly demands of the father, “Give me mine…” in hopes that future dreams would be delivered in a distant country. The older brother is bitterly dissatisfied with his father, “I have served you…I never disobeyed…yet you never gave me…that I might celebrate with my friends,” revealing his dreams were for a party, earned by his morality, for himself and his friends.  Both were devoted to a future dream, to getting something. The younger’s path looked like reckless indulgence. The older’s path looked like religious manipulation. Neither were satisfied with the present love of their father. Their fixation on a better future led them away from faithfulness. Now, think of what you want (or would even say you need), whether it’s a platform, position, spouse, etc.  Often—like the younger son—we forsake obedience to obtain it. We’re impatient, rushing past the calls for humility, honesty, integrity, purity, and charity to pursue what we crave.  At other times, we resemble the older brother, using our obedience to attempt to manipulate God into granting our desires. We live virtuous lives, read our Bibles, attend small groups, and do all the ‘right’ things, feeling God owes us what we want.  In both scenarios, we throw faithfulness out the window. Just like the sons in the parable, we forsake faithfulness by fixating on a future dream.  C.S. Lewis, in his satirical masterpiece Screwtape Letters, says, “It is unknown to them, so that in making them think about it, we make them think of unrealities. In a word, the Future is, of all things, the thing least like eternity. It is the most completely temporal part of time — for the Past is frozen and no longer flows, and the Present is all lit up with eternal rays.… Hence nearly all vices are rooted in the future. Gratitude looks to the past and love to the present; fear, avarice, lust, and ambition look ahead.…”¹  Nearly all vices are rooted in the future. Lewis says that nearly all of our insecurity, greed, and lust are due to an over-fixation of future potential realities. On the contrary, Jesus commands, “Do not worry about tomorrow” (Matthew 6:34). In other words, Jesus says to us: Don’t fixate on the future. Tend to today. Today is enough to focus on! Our solution? Faithfulness to an unchanging Christ. Is C.S. Lewis, and more importantly, Jesus, suggesting that we simply immerse ourselves in the present, forget our dreams, and toil away? Not entirely. Notice what Lewis says about the present: “It is all lit up with eternal rays.” What is he saying? He is describing what both brothers missed in Jesus’ parable. Their ultimate satisfaction could not be found in a season to come but in the present love of their father. A love that lights up every moment. Some religious and philosophical frameworks advocate shedding your deep longings and dreams as the path to contentment. However, the Gospel presents a different perspective. It suggests that contentment comes from shifting your ultimate desire to be in Jesus Christ and pursuing complete satisfaction in Him.  The love, affirmation, honor, and power you are seeking in your next season can ultimately be found right now in Jesus Christ. He is the eternal ray that lights up your present. As St. Augustine put it, “To fall in love with God is the greatest romance; to seek Him, the greatest adventure; to find Him, the greatest human achievement.”² This is the kind of love and honor that frees you up from fixating on what lies ahead.  The key to faithfulness in every season doesn’t involve intensifying your religious duties. The key to remaining faithful in every season is a fixation on an unchanging God. The strength of your faith is always dependent upon its object. Imagine you’re falling. You reach for a twig, you’ll keep falling. But if you grab a rock, you’re secure. If your marbles are on what the next season holds—spouse, salary, significance—then you will never be satisfied. You will constantly be let down. Tim Keller writes in his book on marriage, “We should be neither overly elated by getting married nor overly disappointed by not being so—because Christ is the only spouse that can truly fulfill us and God’s family the only family that will truly embrace and satisfy us.”³ If your marbles are on Christ—his eternal love—then you have all you need every season. When you start to see the faithfulness of Christ, you will start to be faithful in every season. Not because you have a strong and constant faith, but rather because He is strong and constant. If He did not abandon you when you needed him most—when your hell was crashing on him at Calvary— what makes you think he will abandon you now? It’s the hope that makes Edward Mote’s timeless hymn still sweet:   “His oath, his covenant, his blood, support me in the whelming flood; when all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stay.”   Paul writes of this learned revelation to the Philippians,  I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need Philippians 4:11 Jeremiah Burrough, a 1600s English Puritan preacher, wrote of it in his book, The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment. It is “that sweet, inward, quiet, gracious frame of spirit, which freely submits to and delights in God’s wise and fatherly disposal in every condition.”⁴ This friends, is the secret to staying faithful in every season: a gentle, serene, and gracious disposition to confront whatever life throws at us, all while knowing it passes through the hands of our benevolent King.  You and I don’t need to yearn for what lies ahead. Everything we long for in the future is already within our grasp. What the father tells his two sons in the parable holds true for us right now, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” (Luke 15:31).  ¹ Lewis, C. S. The Screwtape Letters. William Collins, 2009. ² St. Augustine. The Confessions. Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, 1998. ³ Keller, Tim. Prayer: Experiencing Awe and Intimacy with God. Dutton, 2014. ⁴ Burrough, Jeremiah. The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment. ‎The Banner of Truth Trust; 1st Edition Thus, 1648.

Thomas Barr takes us through the middle of Mark’s Gospel, where Jesus answers the question, “Why did he come?” On three separate occasions, Jesus answers clearly: He came to die. In each death prediction, Jesus explained to his followers what it would look like to be a disciple: self-denial, service, and suffering.

As we approach the end of 1 Thessalonians, Paul offers the church three directives on how to live according to the will of God: rejoice always, pray without ceasing, and give thanks in all circumstances. But if we want the power to be able to live our lives this way, we need a great perspective of God and his providence. We are excited to be led through this passage by Thomas Barr!